


So You Skip Another Dinner (#46)

by hhopp



Series: Hhopp's Destiel Angst-a-Thon [12]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon Compliant, Castiel is a Good Boyfriend, Dean Winchester Has an Eating Disorder, Eating Disorders, M/M, Supportive Castiel, this could read as either, tw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 07:25:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12859674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hhopp/pseuds/hhopp
Summary: In which Dean's dirty little secret comes to light."It had been about five months since it started but he still refused to call it what, deep down, he knew it was... Guys weren’t supposed to get sick like that— yet here he was."





	So You Skip Another Dinner (#46)

Dean refused to eat it. He felt bad, because Cas had made a special dinner for the two of them, but he wouldn’t put a single bite into his mouth. Dean’s stomach gurgled as he took another sip of water. He was nearly at the end of a 48 hour fast, and he wasn’t about to screw it up out of guilt. Besides, he got 400 calories tomorrow. Maybe he could spend some on a portion of leftovers? Dean picked up his fork and pushed the vegetables around the plate while Cas squinted at him. 

 

Dean cleared his throat. “How was your day?”

 

“It was good,” Cas said, though he sounded suspicious. “Adler’s a pain, but if I get this promotion we’ll be working on different sides of the office.” A little smile teased his lips as he picked up a twirl of buttery spaghetti noodles and carelessly bit it off his fork. _That’s 35 calories, easy. Probably more_. Dean was able to lure him into a bit of chit-chat and distract him from his avoidance of eating for a little while, but Cas was in the middle of relating what Balthazar had said during their lunch break when he cut himself off and stared at him. 

 

“What, is there something in my teeth?” Dean tried, flashing a grin. “Is it spinach? It’s spinach, isn’t it?” The bluff turned his already upset stomach. 

 

Cas sighed. “I don’t see how it could be, seeing as you haven’t taken a single bite. Is there something wrong with the food?”

 

“No, no, it’s not that. I’m just not hungry.” He might have gotten away with the lie if his stomach didn’t start growling loudly in the middle of his excuse. 

 

“Dean?”

 

“I’m fine.” Some venom leaked into his tone; oftentimes Cas would leave him be if Dean snarked at him. He hated to do it, but he knew if he told Cas what was going on he’d have to start eating again.

 

Cas’ eyes turned sad and searching and he was quiet for a moment while he tried to assess his boyfriend. 

 

“Babe, would you drop it, please?” 

 

Cas made a face like his heart was breaking then reached to cover Dean’s hand with his own. “No, because you haven’t even touched your food. What’s going on?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

“Dean.”

 

“Cas—”

 

“When’s the last time you ate something? What did you have?”

 

“What’s with the interrogation? You aren’t my mom. In case you forgot, I’m a big boy,” he snapped. Shoving his chair back from the table, he stood and tried to leave the kitchen. Cas’ hand snagged around his wrist. Dean’s shoulders dropped as Cas gasped. His hand fit all the way around. Dean was proud of the fact, if he was honest— he knew it wasn’t normal, knew it meant he was whacked in the head, but it was progress to him. 

 

It had been about five months since it started but he still refused to call it what, deep down, he knew it was. _Anorexia. Bulimia. Eating disorder._ Guys weren’t supposed to get sick like that— yet here he was. He’d been lying more than ever in order to keep his dirty little secret just that; although he wasn’t proud of it. He was proud, though, that you could count his vertebrae, that his collarbones stood out like a high relief sculpture. 

 

“Sweetheart, what are you doing to yourself?”

 

“Cas…”

 

“No, don’t you ‘Cas’ me, Dean Winchester,” he hissed, fingers locking even tighter around Dean’s bony wrist. Blue eyes bored into Dean’s until he couldn’t take it anymore. He looked away, staring instead at a scratch on the linoleum of the floor. Cas’ voice softened. “Hey, look at me.” Dean’s gaze didn’t move. “Dean, look at me, please.”

 

Neither of them spoke or moved until Dean finally met Cas’ eyes.

 

“Be honest with me. What’s happening to you?”

 

He couldn’t tell him. He couldn’t, or Cas would start making him eat and he’d start watching for things like the laxatives and the diet pills and the extra toothbrush kept hidden beneath the sink. 

 

Dean put on a cracking grin. “Nothing, I’m fine,” he tried, despite his voice breaking. He was. He _was_ fine. “Just… not hungry. That’s all.”

 

“I don’t think so. You’re scaring me.” It was true; knit brows and a mouth pulled down at the corners accompanied Cas’ tremoring voice. 

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“I really don’t think you are. Tell me the truth.” Cas took a breath. “Are you eating as much as you should be?” _If I want to get down to my goal weight, yeah._ He must’ve hesitated just a bit too long before nodding, lips pressed together, because Cas coughed and corrected himself. “As much as a healthy man your age and at your activity level eats.”

 

Dean sighed— he couldn’t keep lying to Cas. Especially not now, not since he’d noticed something was off. “No,” he mumbled, “I’m not.”

 

Cas smiled grimly, the kind that says _I knew it_ but isn’t happy about it. “Why?” 

 

“Pass. Next question.”

 

“Can you just—”

 

“No, babe. I’ll answer your questions and I’ll be honest with you but if I tell you I’m gonna skip one you’ve gotta move on, okay?” Something in his voice must’ve told Cas he was serious, because he frowned but nodded in response. 

 

“Alright, I can work with this. Can I ask how long this has been going on?”

 

“The restriction? Since a little over last Christmas, I think. I may have started doing some other stuff before then, maybe Thanksgiving or so.”

 

“Other stuff?”

 

“Yeah, uh… purging, exercise, fasting, calorie cycles, that kind of thing. It’s not just all ‘avoid the carbs,’ y’know?”

 

“I, um, I can’t say I do,” Cas said with a sardonic little smile. “Does anyone know?”

 

“You and I. And it had better stay that way.”

 

They kept the volley going. Dean kept his promise to tell the truth but he definitely dodged more than a few questions. Eventually they moved it to the bedroom because being in the kitchen was doing nothing for the already difficult conversation.

 

When they sat facing one another, sitting cross-legged atop the covers with hands intertwined, Cas was the first to cry. 

 

“I should’ve noticed sooner that something was wrong. I’m a terrible boyfriend.”

 

“You aren’t, of course you aren’t. Do you know how hard I had to work to keep this from you?” he chuckled mirthlessly. “You’re a wonderful boyfriend. I love you so much.” A real smile graced his lips and the corners of his eyes crinkled as he said those words, even as tears started to fall from his own eyes. “Oh, now look at me. You’ve got me crying too.”

 

“Oh, god.” Cas huffed a little laugh and wiped his eyes. “Alright. I know you’re tired, but can I ask one more question? Will you please look into getting help? I know you probably don’t want to but I also know you’re smart enough to know this is bad for you.”

 

Dean seamed his mouth shut at that. In fact, he didn’t speak again until the lights were off and he could hide under the cover of darkness. “Please don’t ask me that. Don’t make me stop, I need this. If I go to— I dunno, therapy or whatever, they’re gonna make me stop.”

 

Cas considered for a moment. Dean almost thought he was asleep before, softly, he responded, “You have a beautiful soul. And I don’t want to see it choked out by this sickness you have. You don’t need it, you only think you do. I know you can move past this.”

 

“I can’t, babe. I can’t do it.”

 

“You can. And I’ll help you, if you’ll let me. Will you let me help you?”

 

His every instinct fought against him, but Dean closed his eyes, bit his lip, and agreed.

**Author's Note:**

> Whenever I get sucked back into my eating disorders/self harm/depression/gender issues/etc., reading fics about Dean and/or Cas dealing with the same thing helps me figure out what I'm thinking and feeling and what my next step should be. Unfortunately the tag for this is severely underpopulated so I thought I'd help out in case there's anyone else who solves problems this way.
> 
> I own nothing. Kudos, Comments, you know the drill if you've ever read an author's note before.


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